"Will you wait in the car? Promise to wait!"

"Yes. Be quick. Look sharp."

She put down her bucket and stretched up her hand for the bottle and the
box. He held them above her a second, hesitating, then put them into
her hand. She turned from him and went back into the yard. As she
approached the door of the room where the men sat eating she looked
round and saw that he was watching her intently. She waved once,
soothingly, then slipped into the long room filled with the hum of
voices and the smell of gravy.

"There is a poor madman in the yard," she whispered to the man nearest
her. The others looked up.

"They've lost a man from the asylum. I heard in the town this morning,"
said one. "We must keep him here till we telephone. Have you told the
brigadier, mademoiselle?"

"You tell him. I'll go back and talk to the man. Ask the brigadier to
telephone."

"I'll come with you, mademoiselle," said another. "Where is he?"

"In the old limousine by the water tap. He is quiet. Don't frighten him
by coming all together." Chairs and benches were pushed back, and the
men stood up in groups.

"We will go round by the gate in case he makes a run for it. Better not
use force if one can help it...."